


A Subjectable Man

by IdlePace



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-16 01:07:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2250141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdlePace/pseuds/IdlePace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lalna, the original. Lalna the scientist. Lalna, the clone.<br/>He was led and he followed. He was lured as he trusted. He was assured, so he waited.<br/>What a poor man to take such a long fall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Subjectable Man

I once knew a man, a scientist, a genius.

This man, I was lucky enough to call him a friend.

Though his thought process could sometimes be called chaotic and often careless, he never failed to deliver. With his light-hearted attitude people found it easy to like him, share a drink with him, crack a joke with him, and even share their problems with him. His smile always seemed unending. I wanted to do something for him. Offer him a gift for the endless laughs he had given.

So I let him in on my dream.

A lab.

A lab where both of us could limitlessly dive into our curiosity without any restraints. We worked for countless months towards this idea, he dreamt of it as much as I did. We poured everything we had into it, and we succeeded. We could finally do what we wanted: test, experiment, create, we could do it all. It was entirely ours.

With many months passing, experiments coming and going, I began to notice something about the scientist. The more time he spent in the labs and the less outside with friends, it became harder for him to shut his mind off. It would still buzz as he put himself to sleep, edging him into new ideas. Countless times I would wake to him shaking me, exclaiming he had the newest life changing invention. I would always humour him, following and listening to his explanations, half excited and half drained. Though I worried about the amount of materials he exhausted, I never wanted to hinder his creative mind.

You could say I pushed him to try harder, but with such potential how could I not? I could see that he had the ability to constantly solve the questions we had and never get tired even when endless nights took their toll. His mind was constantly working, it was quite beautiful really. At times I couldn’t help myself as I watched him; his excitement for his work was contagious. He quickly became a backbone in the labs; it was the scientist and I, always working closely together. It was, thrilling, to be near someone like that, to share moments with. Share theories, past notes, time, meals, my bed…

Now that I look back, I wonder how I could have been so selfish, turning a blind eye to the alterations. I can’t be entirely at fault, change is inevitable, it can’t be all my fault… but the blame lies with me. My encouragements, my whispers in his ear to make him try even harder and constantly take a step further, I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to see just how far he could go. My own curiosity practically turned him into my new experiment.

He began to change so slowly, such small increments, that I didn’t notice. He began to stay up later and later, his mind never being able to rest. He made new machines to allow him to continue without stopping. He made it so he didn’t have to eat, drink, or sleep. Though he didn’t have to, I at times enticed him to do so. I was greedy.

Instead of addressing his half minded babbles, I brushed them off. Instead of making note of his nervous twitching, I labeled it as quirky. If an experiment failed, I would ignore him. I thought that it would pressure him to succeed more often. When he did have successes, I would reward him, but still tell him that he could do better. My curiosity craved to see what he could do to top his latest achievement. I wanted to know, and I made it so he did too. I baited him, like a frightened lab rat because I thirsted to fill my ledger with more notes on his reactions and achievements, and what I could do to pull more out of him.

I once knew a man of science.

A man of great potential and laughter.

I did not see a trace of the man in those halls on that day.

I could not see his childish touches or his creative whim. What I saw, I will never be able to wash out of my sight.

He cracked.

He cracked on the rocks that were below the cliff I so negligently pushed him off of.

The man of science, his eyes, still the same, the sound of his words so familiar, but his hands, bloody.

I may sound cruel when I say this but, I am glad there were no survivors. I could diminish the damages, skew the numbers and forge a new truth, all before anyone could inquire.

I remember him; he gripped me so tightly, he was afraid. Though I still do not know of what… the act, himself, his undecided future? Perhaps he was afraid of me, and how I would react. All I could do was allow him the hold.

I tried to convince him it was a one-time slip, a moment of temporary insanity, that he could easily go back to experimenting in the lab but this time, I could not convince him.

My decision, I do not regret it. At the time it was the best option. I would not let him die. I would not let the people know the truth and have him hanged without a second thought. They would not have my man of science.

I hid him away. I kept everything a secret, as low key as possible. I felt I could help him, I had to. He could become the same man again. I had the entire world’s technology at my disposal and all the greatest minds, I would find a way.

When people began to wonder, whisper, I panicked. I fell back into an old way of thinking.

I let a clone replace him.

It was a strange mix of relief and guilt when I brought the clone to the scientist’s friends. He was a perfect copy, they welcomed him so easily. I didn’t have to do any convincing; he sunk perfectly into the life that was already there.

The clone was home, the scientist’s home.

He resumed his life, the scientist’s life.

No one was ever the wiser, no one ever questioned anything. He was the perfect place holder for the scientist and the façade I needed to keep people from prying. I could stay at the labs with the original man, and have all the time I needed to work with him.

He was like a lost child, believing and trusting, but scared. I gave him all the promises I could. I would ease his mind so he would be able to go back to his life. I tried to make where he stayed comfortable. I tried to give him room for laughter again. Yet his mind could not turn off. At times I debated if the projects I gave him to satisfy his intellectual hunger helped or hindered, but it allowed him to focus all his thoughts.

When he was found, he glass box unearthed, I was questioned. What first came to mind, I shouldn’t have said, but it was for his safety, all for his safety. I needed people to stay away from him.

I called him dangerous. I called him a threat.

They gave him the label, monster. They wanted to name the monster.

Lalnable.

They thought themselves clever as they looked at the monster who wore the same skin as the beloved scientist.

Lalnable.

I repeated the name, I don’t know why. His eyes, the man’s eyes, I saw them tremble when I said it.

Lalnable.

I was supposed to save him, give him the ability to breathe fresh air without doubt again, but I solidified his new name. After that he was distant. He didn’t want to sit next to the glass anymore, deciding to stand at the opposite end to me. He no longer wanted to fix the machines or projects I gave him, he only smashed them further.

When I asked him about his drastic switch, he only repeated the new name, over and over again. I could visibly see his anger towards the given identity and his rejection of it, but it seemed to continuously be forced onto him. No one saw him as anything else and he could barely see himself through the suffocating overcast.

He grew restless. He grew wrathful. He demanded impossible things, but I retrieved them, in hopes he could forgive. Yet he never did. I fed his hatred when I tried to sooth. He would pound at the glass, blaming me, shaming me. It was all my fault, everything that had happened to him. It would have never occurred if it weren’t for me.

Even as I still exasperated myself, I became shattered from everything he threw at me. I ventured out of the labs more often. Spending time in what seemed to be the picture perfect carefree past. I would sit around a table with friends and feel the happiness again, but I never could forget the man, the scientist who screamed within the lab walls. His exact copy sat across from me, how could I forget my acts?

Even when my present events plague me, it was impossible to forget the past, when the smile he cracked was so wide, when the tilt of his head was so kind. This was the same man I once promised the sky. He had all the same transferred memories and thoughts. The same laugh, the same warm breath. His words, his hair, skin and touch, it was all the same. Same grip. Same kiss. Body…

Have you ever wondered, how things could possibly return to the sun filled days they once were? Could forgiveness ever happen? Could wrongs ever turn right?

I now stand in front of the scientist. His words call me softly even through the thick wall of glass.

I told him everything. All of it. I spared no detail.

I begged.

I begged him for forgiveness. I failed him; my promises were full of holes. His life is now carried on by a carbon copy of what he once was. His existence now is stained, by my own words. I now know that he can never recover from what I did to him. He is too deep into the grave that I dug for him.

He still calls me, my name sweet on his tongue.

It is now he who has the promises and convincing words. He will act as the judge and jury of my trial he says. He tells me he will be fair, I just have to step in.

His fingers curl as he tells me these words. He comes closer to the glass, just like he used to. I can see his eyes, hair, lips; it’s all stayed the same. It’s all so welcoming that I can hardly register my fingers as they type in the eight digit code, unlocking the door.

I once knew a man of science.

A genius, a man beloved by all who knew him.

My scientist is no longer in those eyes. The closer I get, the clearer it becomes. I still walk into his arms, like second nature. I could be afraid of him, of myself, of the unknown, but I have forfeited such a privilege. I submit.

I once knew a man named Lalna, a scientist, a friend, a partner.

That man is dead now. He no longer walks this planet. He left me so long ago, killed by my own hand. I stripped him of his innocence, poisoned his mind and mangled his existence. 

I killed my scientist.

Now all that remains, is Lalnable.


End file.
